


Run On

by TheOneWithTheObsessions



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Amy-centric, Drabble, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-16
Updated: 2013-05-16
Packaged: 2017-12-12 01:18:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/805475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheOneWithTheObsessions/pseuds/TheOneWithTheObsessions
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All she wants is one moment to feel the turn of a new world under her feet. Amy-centric drabble. Implied 11/Amy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Run On

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Moby's Run On and insomnia on a rainy night. Unbeta'd.

There are days where she wishes they could stop running. Stop running from unnameable fears and endless worries and just stand still. One day is all she asks for, one simple day of standing (or sitting, or lying down – she’s not bothered really), one opportunity to bask in the sun of a planet never before seen by human eyes and one moment to feel the turn of a new world under her feet.

 

The concept of stillness is becoming foreign, a far off dream, associated with sadness and the sensation of cold blankets on a rainy night; because the last time she was still, he wasn’t there with his grin, his magic box or his warm hand in hers, dragging her towards the stars.

 

Sometimes, when they’re locked away by the guards of the current planet they’re on (a far too common occurrence), she is grateful; the few snatched seconds of rest amongst the chaos that has become her life are pure bliss. She cradles those precious moments like a mother with her newborn child, both fearful and wondrous – until he storms in, brandishing the sonic and freeing her with a whirr and a flash of green light. A hand grasping hers, a kiss pressed hurriedly to her forehead, a quick visual inspection for injury and they’re off – flying towards the blue box with laughter in the air and a dust trail leaping behind them.

 

She wonders if he notices. If he ever speculates about _why_ she retreats into the quiet of her room, or the library (the swimming pool now a permanent fixture amongst shelves of ancient tomes and holobooks of her future) after the adventure has passed, the adrenalin has worn off, after the planet has been saved (mostly). If he does, he doesn’t mention it to her. Occasionally, he joins her in the still and the silence, usually with a cup of tea (milk and two sugars, always too hot to drink) and a weary sigh that echoes along the corridors long after it should. She ponders what to say if he ever decides to ask her the reason she retreats from the world _(would he ever ask?)._ Would she would claim that it is her routine? Perhaps reason it away as a need for the familiar surroundings? Truly, she thinks that she might not answer, instead looking into his eyes (so lonely) and trusting that he’ll understand. One day, that’s exactly what she does, and she sees the comprehension rise in his face followed swiftly by a soft smile and a whisper of kindness left hanging in the air as he departs.

 

He shows her how much he understands, piloting them to a planet that is simply fields of grass and small rivers (‘a planet waiting for contact’ he says, telling her that this simple planet will eventually become the most popular picnic destination in 3 galaxies). They lie there, amongst the swaying grass, and cloud spot whilst listening to the gentle rushing of water over the stones.

Later, when they watch the sunset over the swathes of grass that stretch as far as her eyes can see, she take his hand and speak five simple words into the horizon.

 

“Standing still is overrated Doctor.”

 

And he will smile and embrace her, and mutter three words into her hair in reply.

 

“Amelia Pond, _run_.”

 

And they will, striding across eons, hand in hand. Forever running onwards; Amy, and her Doctor.


End file.
